I Want To Belong To You
by excusemeb
Summary: My imagining of TB Pam's turning. Happy Maker's Day!
1. Pam

**WARNING: Spoilers for S5 in A/N.**

**A/N: So, before some of the S5 spoilers came out, I'd never felt compelled to write about Pam's turning since there are so many amazing FF stories out there to enjoy (plus, CH's canon version). However, since (according to S5 spoilers) the TB writers have decided that Pam should not only be a whore but a madam, and they've also decided that she was turned in the US (as opposed to being turned in Britain, as per canon), I've been thinking a lot about this. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure I'll love watching what they've come up with (especially since it evidently involves Pam and Eric in bed together. Naked. *grins*), but I just think that Pam deserves better than a brothel. Apparently, so did Eric.**

**That being said, this is my imagining of TB Pam's turning, set c.1905 San Francisco, CA, inspired in part by spoilers from S5, as well as some stuff from the S2 DVD extras. Thanks for reading!**

**DEDICATION: To my very dear Truebie friend, Lady Dudley. Here's hoping that S5 brings better days for TB's OTP. xx**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.**

* * *

_**Have you ever seen such kindness**_

_**Such resigned delight**_

_**All in one glance**_

_**Right when you pass me**_

_**I watch, you see**_

_**You smile, I breathe**_

_**Air in my chest**_

_**I'm trying my best**_

_**The sun left me so quickly**_

_**I am stuck under the moon**_

_**I want to belong to you**_

_**I pray no one will find you**_

_**I'll stay right where I am**_

_**'Til you come back**_

_**Don't let me lose you**_

_**Before there's a chance to begin**_

* * *

He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

For that, I very nearly hated him instantly.

Though once he spoke, I knew that I had to be with him - for one night or forever, it didn't matter, it just had to happen.

It was strange that I didn't notice the handsome man earlier since I'd been busy scanning the crowd for my fiancé who had rushed off to meet his mother's carriage and left me waiting unattended.

I reflected on that thought for a brief moment: for goodness' sake, we weren't even married yet and I was already being pushed to the back burner in favor of another woman, even if it was his mother.

I swear, if he wasn't scion to one of the "Big Four" families, I'd have considered acting on my reservations, but alas, Daddy and Mama were anxious to get me paired off as they were both already frustrated beyond belief at my choosiness. Mama was particularly offended since she'd raised me to be a 'proper lady'; thank God what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her (it's a good thing that Colin, our stable boy, was good at keeping secrets). But I digress.

I was quite fortunate and should probably sound more grateful that my betrothed was even more well off than my own well-to-do father, and it was helpful that he wasn't terrible to look at either. Well, he could've been a few inches taller, but beggars can't be choosers.

So, because of that distraction, I didn't notice the striking man until he was standing in front of me.

He was tall, much taller than most every other man on the street that evening, he would have towered over my own finacé who was not much taller than me. He appeared somewhat of a dandy: he was dressed well, just as everyone else waiting in front of the grand music hall that evening, but every aspect of his attire was lavish and he was preened to perfection; he practically glowed.

He removed his top hat revealing his long, golden hair, which was fastened in a single braid, and bowed slightly, then asked in a sensuous tone, "Now what, pray tell, is a woman as delectable as yourself doing standing alone outside on such a cool evening?"

_Well, that was forward_, I thought, then stated aloud, "I'm waiting for my fiancé, and I would be grateful if you would please leave before he returns." _Best not to lead this man on too much, he seems eager enough as it is_, I told myself.

"I think you'd be eternally grateful if we both left, together, before he returned," was his lecherous reply.

I stifled a gasp. _The cad! Who did he think he was speaking to? Some street-walking call girl?_

"Sir, I don't know who you think you're speaking to, but just in case it's not blatantly obvious, I am not some low-rent harlot from one of the saloons here in town. My father and fiancé are influential, powerful men in this city. So, if you value your life, you'll do well to respect my wishes and leave me at once."

He laughed.

I scowled. _What the hell was wrong with him?_

To tell the truth, I was put off by the fact that I wouldn't be able to enjoy flirting with this fellow since he was so boldly salacious. Someone might overhear, and a girl was only permitted so much fun within the confines of decent society. Here he was ruining my night at the theater by being a bit too overbearing. Such a shame, too, since he was more beautiful than any other man, and most of the women, in attendance this evening.

"Perhaps they _were_ eminent," he smirked, "but now that _I_ am here, I believe those accolades properly belong to me. In fact, to my knowledge, there is none more influential and powerful in this country now that I have arrived," he boasted.

I had to will my jaw from falling agape. Never in my life had I ever met anyone so arrogant, and that's saying something considering the company I kept. Before I could say anything, he was speaking again.

"Now, perhaps we should start over," he continued in his vaguely European accent, "I've traveled far and wide, but never have I seen someone so fair as you, beautiful lady. I am Eric Northman. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Pamela Swynford de Beaufort," I sniffed haughtily in my best impression of my mother, "and I, _sir_, have never, _ever_ met anyone so brazen, nor had my requests so _rudely_ ignored. I've asked that you leave me in peace, so please, _go_."

"Pamela," he mused slowly, and despite my efforts to continue loathing him, the way my name rolled off his tongue caused my heart to skip a beat (or three). "What a lovely name. It's from a poem, you know. Would you like to know what it means? It implies sweetness, all-encompassing, like honey."

_Talk about honey_, I thought, listening raptly as his voice dripped like lubricious nectar. I'm quite certain I ceased breathing at this point.

"Would you like to know what I think, Pam?" he raised his eyebrows inquisitively and smiled sweetly.

_Now he's calling me Pam_, I mused.

"I think that despite all your attempts to prove otherwise, I'll bet that you are sweet, but you just don't like to show it. And honestly, who could blame you since you'll be forced to spend out your days catering to a dullard: that short, small-minded excuse for a man who is going to smother out whatever interesting sparks lie within you awaiting ignition, then burden you with bearing his equally insignificant offspring, and who'll just continue to stray from your side, leaving you to live out the remaining days of your existence a lonely, bitter heart."

I could feel my eyes stinging from the tears I willed not to fall. _How dare he! How dare this man, this stranger, assess my life. How could he possibly know what I already felt in my heart?_

"I cannot bear the thought of such a tragedy, not for you," he said, barely above a whisper, his knowing eyes never leaving my own.

_Who was he? What did he want? Why was I allowing him to stir such feelings within me? I should be able to dismiss him as I have so many others before, but I was powerless as he held me in his gaze with eyes that seemed to swallow the world._

He composed himself and said quickly, "I'll take my leave, but before I do, I offer you this: meet me tonight and I will give you everything you've ever dreamed of and more. I will give you life in place of the agonizing death you currently march toward. Meet me on the northwestern side of the peninsula after the show this evening. You will not be disappointed."

Then, without so much as a backward glance, he turned and left.

* * *

**A/N: Songs quoted throughout the story are "I Want To Belong To You" and "Sumatra" by Katie Herzig, which, along with some clips from the S2 DVD extras, inspired me.**


	2. Light All My Lights

_**Suddenly light on my feet**_

_**With a sweet rearrange of the day**_

_**Everything's changed now**_

_**One quick exchange**_

_**It's not the same**_

_**Kind of goodbye**_

_**Gone with a sigh**_

_**The sun left me so quickly**_

_**I am stuck under the moon**_

_**I want to belong to you**_

_**I pray no one will find you**_

_**I'll stay right where I am**_

_**'Til you come back**_

_**Don't let me lose you**_

_**Before there's a chance to begin**_

* * *

I didn't even make it to intermission.

I excused myself from my seat, staving off all requests for assistance or accompaniment by feigning an urgent need to visit the privy, and I practically ran out the front door and onto the street. I was beyond thankful that I didn't forget my clutch in my mad dash for the exit: I'd need cash for a carriage, or better yet a steam car, because there was no way I could walk the entire way to the overlook at the straight. Not in these shoes.

Fortunately, the transit depot was not far from the edge of the area where I was to meet Eric, so I didn't have far to walk and I could ensure that no one would follow me. They had recently started work to turn some of the land on this side of the peninsula, currently dedicated to cemetery plots, into a golf course because of its stunning views of the straight, and I was grateful for the young, cultivated forest of pine, cypress, and eucalyptus trees that wound across the open expanse of meadow and provided ample coverage for my attempt at stealth.

I made my way as quickly as the awkward boots and cumbersome long skirts I wore would allow - style comes with a price - to the crest of a hill that overlooked the straight below and the hilly Headlands to the north, and I waited for him under the weathered pines that dotted the serpentine rocks lining the ridge.

Gazing upward into the sky, I noticed two bright points whose mutual gleam simply commanded attention.

As I pondered the meaning of such a peculiar sight, I felt a cool hand touch my own and an already familiar voice speak my name.

That was the first night of the rest of my life.

_**I'll let you whisper**_

_**I'll let you hold me**_

_**Do what you came to**_

_**You are the only**_

_**I will not cry out**_

_**I will not fight you**_

_**I'll let you have me**_

_**All that you want to**_

* * *

**A/N: The title of this chapter is from a song of the same name by Seeker Lover Keeper, the theme of which is in keeping with this story and Pam's (and Eric's) feelings regarding her turning.**


	3. Eric

_**Everyone needs someone to touch them**_

_**Everyone needs someone to hold**_

_**So why's it so damn hard to love when we're alone**_

_**I've lived a lifetime telling stories**_

_**About the way we live and die**_

_**When love was born it was a mystery**_

_**I'm yet to find**_

_**And when I wake up in the [evening]**_

_**There is a twinkle in my eye**_

_**That maybe someday you will meet me**_

_**In the light**_

* * *

I came to the so-called Paris of the West looking for something, preferably someone, to assuage my growing ennui.

I was coming into my ninth century of existence and had recently parted from my maker again at his gentle insistence that I travel somewhere new. He had grown weary of my relentless pining, and who could blame him? Watching someone you love, especially your progeny, yearning for something, anything, to renew their usually zealous lust for life must be nearly as painful as what that person is experiencing.

After a few nights spent wandering the bustling, crowded streets, bored and on the edge of regretting my decision to make the trip from New Orleans to San Francisco, I found myself standing across the street from a grand music hall. I hoped to find more here than I had in the shallow diversions I'd found myself less than entertained with in the saloon I visited the night before.

It wasn't long before I spotted exactly what I had been looking for.

I waited and watched as the patrons gathered in front of the hall's entrance. The night air was practically electric with their anticipation for the show, filled with the excitement generated by a crowd dressed to impress and ready to enjoy a night on the town. The people were of a different class than those who patronized the watering holes I had spent the last few nights stalking.

My eyes fell upon her and I was instantly transfixed.

She was stunning - a Gibson Girl come to life - golden-haired and fair-complected, even from here I could see that her eyes were as pale and blue as my own. She was dressed in a fashion-forward gown with flowing skirts, a deliciously low neckline, and the tightest corset to be seen in that crowd. Her copious hair was swept up fashionably atop her head, and she wore a very large, ornate hat. Even for this town, this 'Paris of the West,' she was far too good for anyone here, hell, she'd be too good for anyone here a hundred years from now.

I had to have her and not just for one night. I wanted her for my very own. Forever.

She was standing next to a man of similar height and they appeared to be arguing over something, or at least he did, as he was the one who was gesticulating wildly, she just stood there hand on hip with the most amusing expression - a mixture of boredom and irritation - fixed upon her lovely features.

As he turned to stalk off toward an approaching carriage, I recognized him. I had seen him a night or two prior in one of the bars I stopped into to slake my thirst after my long journey where he and a couple of acquaintances were busy gambling and groping. Later that night, I had come upon him again wasting some poor girl's time behind the building with his mediocre efforts at debauchery.

Well, that sealed the deal: there was no way in Hell I was leaving her to his profligate devices. Never in a million years did that buffoonish libertine deserve anything as perfect as her.

Of course, she put up a good fight, but I could tell that she was enamored of me too. When she started arguing with me, I considered glamouring her for a split second, but I quickly decided that I did not want a child who would hate me forever because I had conned them into this life; I much preferred that she meet me willingly and of her own accord.

I didn't allow myself to turn back for one last look as I walked away.

I prayed to the gods that it would not be the last time I saw her.


	4. Out Of The Dark

_**Suddenly light on my feet**_

_**With a sweet rearrange of the day**_

_**Everything's changed now**_

_**One quick exchange**_

_**It's not the same**_

_**Kind of goodbye**_

_**Gone with a sigh**_

_**The sun left me so quickly**_

_**I am stuck under the moon**_

_**I want to belong to you**_

_**I pray no one will find you**_

_**I'll stay right where I am**_

_**'Til you come back**_

_**Don't let me lose you**_

_**Before there's a chance to begin**_

* * *

I waited across the street as I had before I spoke with Pam, and it wasn't long after the show started that she made her way out of the front doors into the street. By the gods, she didn't even wait for intermission much less the end of the show!

Eagerness was a good trait in a second I decided as I took to the sky to follow her to our predetermined rendezvous.

She was very clever, moving quickly and with purpose, so as not to attract too much attention from anyone. That would come in handy later when her family was trying to track down her last known whereabouts. Well, it would benefit the two of us anyway.

I felt a swell of pride at the realization that my new child was already exhibiting traits not always inherent in new ones - though certainly a necessity for a successful, long life - traits that usually required careful instruction and guidance from a responsible maker, and I congratulated myself on finding one who already possessed so many desirable attributes.

I continued to watch her from a distance as she made her way into the woods and climbed up the steep hill, the one closest to the straight, the one with the best view of the cold, blue water below. Dense fog was already rolling down the hilly peninsula over the straight across the way, shrouding most of the hills and part of the water. The light from the full moon shone brightly off of the tops of the low clouds, creating a dramatic effect.

Taking my eyes off of her slender figure for another brief moment, I looked higher up in the sky at two bright lights that begged for attention.

If there was any doubt in my mind as to whether or not I should be selfish enough to make Pam mine here and now, it ended when my eyes fell upon the sight before me: Jupiter and Venus shone brightly right next to one another in a display so dazzling that, had it still been active, my heart would have skipped a beat or two. Conjunction, I thought, that's the sterile term that humans apply to this ethereal delight.

I regarded it as a good omen, an indication that I had found what I was looking for after wandering for centuries in the night, in the dark.

Tonight was the night I would become Zeus to her Aphrodite: Eric Northman, god of the sky, and my gorgeous progeny, Pamela Swynford de Beaufort, embodiment of love and beauty. Together we will rule the night for eternity.

Resolute, I flew silently to her side, taking her hand in mine as I quietly called her name.

That was the first night of the best of my life.

_**I'll give you sunsets**_

_**I'll give you kisses**_

_**I'll give you songs that**_

_**That no one else hears**_

_**It's not enough love**_

_**Until you know me**_

_**Until you touch me**_

_**Until you hold me**_

* * *

**A/N: I purposely typed "best" (as opposed to "rest") in the last line because I'd like to think that Eric feels that his life has been better for having Pam in it, and that the best nights have been the ones he's spent with her.**

**Also, the title of this chapter is from a song by Matt Hires of the same name, which I think helps describe Eric's feelings as I have attempted to convey them in this story. I think the lyrics in the song are a stellar example of the feelings Eric might find himself wrestling with after walking the planet for nearly a millennium without a confidante, someone (aside from his maker) whom he could trust without reservation and who loved him unconditionally.**


End file.
